


fundamental principles

by midsommur



Category: The Batman (Movie 2021)
Genre: F/M, birthday blowjob :-), i luv battinson, orig posted on my tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midsommur/pseuds/midsommur
Summary: He stays home with her, because really, it’s the principle of the thing.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Reader
Kudos: 41





	fundamental principles

He stays home with her, because really, it’s the principle of the thing.

The reason why she’s so moved by it isn’t because it’s his birthday, of all things, but by his genuine willingness to give into her plea. The man never took breaks, his own birthday not being any different, but because it mattered to her, well, then—

It would matter to him.

And because, in her words, nothing was sacred to him, which isn’t entirely true, but she tended to break out into idioms whenever he challenged her.

Bruce isn’t sure what he loves most about her, but the way she’d stare him right in the eye, like she wasn’t afraid or swayed by what the media said, what everyone said about him. All she saw was him, and apparently, his ineptness to take a goddamn break every once in a while.

It wasn’t too much to ask. Especially on his fucking birthday, but he’s Bruce and everything has to be something with him. My city needs me, what I do defines me, whatever the fuck.

But in the end, he succumbs to her. In the end, he knew he always would.

“Bruce,” she hums, eyeing the clock next to their bed, knowing full well he is, too. 11:59. “You’re about to know what it feels like to be a year older; doesn’t that make you excited?”

He snorts. “No, not really.”

She faux gasps, lips wide and parted as she brings her hand to her cheek in shock. “Are you insane? A whole year older, Bruce, you should really be savoring these last few seconds you have with your youth.”

With a playful eyeroll, he tugs her arms back to him, her back falling against his chest. “Help me enjoy it then, darling.”

“Hmm,” she sighs contentedly, hand splayed against his chest. His actual birthday night would be spent mingling at a gala in his honor, one that neither of them would actually care to attend, but appearances were virtuous these days. He promised tonight for her, for them.

After glancing back at the clock, seeing that it was now 12:00, he drew his hand to her back and pinched the thin skin of her neck. Wordlessly, he looked back to the nightstand. Her eyes followed his gaze, and after falling on the clock, she elicited a sound of glee.

“Happy birthday, Brucie!” she cries, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. He laughs, loud and warm, hands resting on the small of her back.

“Thank you, baby,” he sighs, eyes falling shut. “Happy I’m here with you.”

“Glad to know I don’t have any competition,” she quips, earning a chuckle back from him. “Want one of your presents now?”

“One?” he asks, surprised as she pulls away from his hold, sitting back on her heels between his legs. Bruce wasn’t entirely sure he deserved any at all. He had her, and she was plenty. He was sure he was pressing his luck with her as it was. He’d never believe he would ever truly deserve her, someone so precious and perfect.

“Yes, one,” she snickers, nose scrunched. “You can’t be greedy and have them all now.”

“Okay,” he says, “where is it, then?”

She looks up in thought, as she hums to herself, as if she were finding her phrasing. “Well, it’s one of those presents that’s more like a present to a lot of people.” She tells him this all soft and innocent as she leans forward, toying with the waistband strings on his sweatpants. He tenses as she continues, positioning herself to lay flat on her belly.

“Except it’s not really a lot of people—it’s just us.”

“Oh,” he nods, a smile creeping on his face. “Is that what it is?”

“Yes,” she affirms, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Breaking her seriousness, she smiles, eyebrows scrunched together like she’s hopeful and asking, was that good, was that clever, did you think it was funny? cute? am I good?

And because he can read her like a book, he gives her the sincerest smile he can offer as he cards a lock of hair behind her ear. She melts at his touch.

“How lucky am I?”

The question, he’s not sure who it was for—her, himself, the air— hangs in the air. She looks away from him, as if embarrassed from the praise, instead focusing back on her initial venture. With his help, she pulls his sweatpants and boxers down in one fell sweep. The sight of him, his cock, thick in her grasp never fails to get a reaction out of her. Bruce even remembers, what with his eidetic memory, the first time she’d seen it, her eyes blown out wide. There’s something about the way she looks at him, so hungry and innocent all the same, that makes him want to just fawn over her, the way she fawns over him now.

She strokes him first, he’s big and warm and from her touch alone, his breath already is faltering. It’s encouragement to her, all the little noises and sounds she gets out of him. He’s never been vocal, necessarily—it’s in the details. The way he shudders, when his lips part, his grunts, his hands in her hair, tugging, pulling. She doesn’t tell him, she knows he’d make a decent, controlled effort to stop. She likes seeing him crack a little, relaxed and reprieved. A version of Bruce only she gets to see.

It’s when she licks her lips and takes him into her mouth, when he really starts his little ministrations. His eyes roll back behind closed lids, chin up to the ceiling as she licks his shaft with a flat tongue. She takes more of him, then, some inches fully in her mouth, just too feel him shudder, just to make him react. He lets out a breath, a grunt, as he laces a hand through her hair, like a gentle encouragement further. “So good,” he tells her, voice strained. “You’re, so, so good for me, honey.”

She gives him something like a whine in response when he starts to reflexively rock his hips up into her. She settles into a careful rhythm, bobbing her head, forwards and back, no teeth, and she’s slow, but Bruce doesn’t really mind. His free fist clenches in the sheets all the same, and he takes the time to really marvel at this, bask in the moment. Her pretty, pouty lips around his cock, the rosy blush that paints her cheeks and nose from just the heat of the moment.

One of her hands reaches up to touch his abs when her nose nearly touches his pelvis, and he just about loses it there. She feels like choking, gagging as he comes down her throat, but she stays in place because she almost likes it, likes the way he likes it too but would never really admit it. When he lets go of his gentle hold on her, she pulls away with a gasp and a breathless smile.

And then, because he’s Bruce, her darling sweetheart of a man, he leans forward, one hand cradling the side of her face and the other wrapped gingerly around her neck, he kisses her. He quite possibly couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t even if he tried, tried like how he does nearly every day he lives. Even when he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s floating, he doesn’t pull away. She does for him.

She giggles with her forehead pressed to his. “Are you excited to be a year older, now?”

“As long as it’s more years of this,” he says with a sigh, before taking her lips in his once more.


End file.
